


Ionnis and Rhodneios

by Antares



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Established Relationship, Happy Ending, Kissing, M/M, Near Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 05:44:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20861204
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antares/pseuds/Antares
Summary: Ancient Greece in mythological times. Ionnis is a palace guard, Rhodneios an inventor and famous craftsman, but fate has some surprises for them.





	Ionnis and Rhodneios

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to my wonderful beta reader Shazzz!

Like every morning, the first rays of the sun on his face, and the enthusiastic greeting of said sun by the rooster of their neighbors, woke Ionnis. He yawned and stretched and said a short prayer to the gods and goddesses thanking them for bringing him through the darkness without nightmares. Very quietly he sat up, not wanting to disturb his sleeping lover. He looked at Rhodneios who was drooling a bit on the pillow. He couldn’t resist, and light as a feather, he caressed Rhodneios’ cheek. It would be at least another hour before his friend would be ready to confront the day. Ionnis smiled indulgently. 

When he wanted to leave the bed, there was movement at his back, and an arm sneaked around his waist. “As you’ve already woken me up, at least don’t leave without a kiss,” his bed partner mumbled. Even if this was meant as a reproach, he was far from his often acerbic tone. The words were slurred together, and his fingers were gliding over Ionnis’ naked skin. 

“You can have as many kisses as you want,” Ionnis replied and let himself fall back on the bed again. 

“One will be enough,” Rhodneios answered, “or otherwise I can’t go back to sleep.” He said it was his eyes still closed, obviously to bring home the point that he wasn’t totally awaken yet. But a smile played around his lips. 

Ionnis bent forward to kiss the smile and the lips. Rhodneios’ arms pulled him closer and he opened his mouth. Ionnis accepted the invitation and soon they were kissing and grinding together. Waves of pleasure ran through Ionnis’ body. Yes, this was the perfect way to start a day! His fingers caressed his lover’s skin that was still warm from sleep. There was no frenzy in their lovemaking, and Ionnis loved it that his friend for once was still so uncoordinated, so clumsy, and not his usual over-self-confident person. 

But nevertheless, Rhodneios’ fingers found his already hard member and they matched their strokes. Only a short time and lots of moans later they spilled between their intertwined bodies. 

“By Aphrodite, what a way to start a day,” Ionnis said breathlessly a few moments later.

“Yes, yes, yes.” Rhodneios made a shooing motion with his hand. “But off to work with you now and let me get some more sleep. Put a glass of water in the clock so that the bell rings when I have to get up.” The addition to the water-clock had been Rhodneios’ idea because he sometimes forgot time when he was working very intensely on something. 

“Yes, love,” Ionnis said mockingly, and stole another kiss from Rhodneios’ puckered lips. 

Rhodneios groaned because of the endearment, and Ionnis was sure that he rolled his eyes behind his closed eyelids. 

\----------------------------------------------------------

Shortly afterwards Ionnis left the house and walked down the winding footpath to the city and the royal palace. He was the head of the royal guards and it was one of his duties to find out if there had been an incident during the night. He walked around the city walls, talked to the sentinels, but none of them had remarked anything out of order which pleased him very much. 

Thanks to his friend, lover and partner Rhodneios, the small city in Thessaly on the coast of the Aegean Sea was a very safe place to live. Rhodneios was a great inventor and builder. He’d designed an underwater defense line with nets and spears, and had fortified some of the hundreds of small islands that guarded the harbor of the city. Since then the attacks of the pirates that had once plagued the city had nearly stopped. 

That was fine with Ionnis. He wasn’t one of those warriors who needed a war to feel validated. He had participated in so many battles in his youth that he had seen enough blood, and death, and atrocities to last for a lifetime. He loved that his daily routine was so uneventful, and that the crimes he had to deal with were mostly nightly brawls at the tavern or some stolen items. 

Ionnis looked out over the sea where the fishermen were returning, their boats heavy with their haul. He saw the silvery scales of the fish glittering in the morning sun. It would be a good day at the market for Ronon and his friends. Perhaps he would pass by later to take home some sea bass for dinner. 

“Good morning,” someone said behind him and Ionnis turned around to see his second in command, Evanos. 

“Good morning to you, too,” he answered. 

“You were so deep in your thoughts that I wasn’t sure about disturbing you. I hope you weren’t working on the composition for our Queen’s marriage and I interrupted your creativity?” He smiled. 

“No.” Ionnis sighed. “I was thinking about buying a sea bass, but you’re right I really should finish the wedding song soon.” 

In a few weeks Queen Elissavet was going to marry the foreign ambassador Radek, from a country far beyond north of Thrace. And because Ionnis played the lyre and had written one famous song named “Ring of fire” where he described the burning of an enemy village, the Queen thought that he would be the right man to write the official wedding song. Ionnis had tried to dissuade her, but in vain. Now his inability to come up with the right words and melody was a constant source of mocking for his men. 

“Finish the song? So you finally started?” Evanos asked avidly and leaned against the balustrade. 

“I wrote the title.” 

“Good.” Evanos clapped him on the shoulder. “What is it called?” 

“For the Queen’s Wedding,” Ionnis admitted sheepishly and sighed again.

Evanos laughed out loud. Then he sobered and said, “Why don’t you write about something you know? Describe your feelings like you did in the ‘Ring of fire’. That’s why it’s such a great success, it sounds so authentic.” 

“I can’t write about slaughtered women and crying children for a wedding!” Ionnis objected. He gave Evanos an incredulous look. 

“No, that’s not what I mean. Look, you have been living with Rhodneios for seven, eight years now. So, write something about life as a couple. About being together.” He hesitated, but after a moment continued in a quieter, more questioning tone, “About love?” 

Ionnis snorted. “I don’t think that the Queen is interested in hearing about a cranky genius who from time to time can drive me really crazy.” 

“You’re still mad at him for provoking the Sicilian delegation and Daedalus?” Evanos asked, referring to an incident that had happened a few days earlier. 

“No,” Ionnis answered promptly, perhaps a bit too promptly because Evanos arched one eyebrow. 

“Maybe a bit,” he admitted finally. “I mean it was such an unnecessary thing to do. Daedalus is a legend. He escaped the labyrinth of Knossos by building wings and flying out of it. And everyone knows that Deadalus thinks he’s the greatest inventor, builder and craftsman who ever set a foot on this earth. But you’ve seen him. He’s an old man now. Barely able to draw a straight line these days. And Rhodneios is in the prime of his life and his career. Why boast in front of this doter about his achievements? Why make him see that a younger one is eager to step into his footprints?” Ionnis rubbed one hand over his neck. 

“Rhodneios always says what he thinks without thinking it through. We know that he is …” Evanos searched for words and finished his sentence with, “…lacking your diplomatic skills.” 

Ionnis gave him a lopsided grin. “Very nicely put. But you’re right. We know him, and we can see behind his sometimes blunt attitude. But still, that’s no excuse for his boasting.” With a last look to the quiet sea Ionnis started marching in the direction of the council chamber where they were expected to be after the Queen’s breakfast.

Evanos fell in step beside him. “I think you managed to convince the delegation that is was all a big misunderstanding.” 

“Let’s hope so. I really would regret it if they stopped their orange and lemon deliveries to us, even if my dear friend deems it totally unnecessary.” 

They both laughed when they remembered Rhodneios’ shocked face when the Queen had explained why Sicily was such an important trade partner for them and therefore it was not a good idea to anger one of their most honored citizens. 

\---------------------------------------------------------

In the council meeting they talked about a message sent by the King of Pydnia who wanted to marry his daughter to the Queen’s brother, the progress of building a newer, faster sailing ship, three goats that had been stolen, and the request of an inhabitant of the city to build another tavern near the agora. They also spoke about the necessary renovation of one of the watch towers, the new teacher they had to find for the gymnasium, and of course about the state of the preparations for the wedding celebrations. 

It was already in the afternoon before Ionnis left the palace. He was too late for the market, so he strolled down to the harbor where he found Ronon who was mending his nets. 

He greeted him and asked, “Do you have any fish or crabs left that I can take home for dinner?” 

“Sure.” Ronon invited him to follow him to the pier. He pulled a fish trap out of the water. 

The small eyes in a very large head of an angler gawked at Ionnis. His wide- open mouth with long pointed teeth struggled to gulp in the air. It was an ugly fish, but it tasted good, so Ionnis decided to take it. 

Ronon took it out of the trap and killed it. He wrapped it into some big leaves and gave it to Ionnis. When he took it one last tremor ran through the fish – and Ionnis was flooded with a pain so utter that he gasped. But it was not the agony of the fish he was experiencing. Before his eyes appeared the image of a man who was beaten to death and Ionnis struggled to find out when and where during his military campaigns this had happened. But he couldn’t remember a situation like this. 

His heart missed a beat when the idea that this could be a premonition crossed his mind. He sank to his knees because now it was as if each blow was striking him. He would have landed in the dirt if Ronon had not stabilized him. Blindly, he grabbed for Ronon’s forearm, and Ronon hauled him up. Finally, the touch of the strong arms tore him out of his stupor. He was able to breathe again, able to realize that he was still at the harbor and not … 

“No!” He cried out. “Now I know where it is! It’s our house. Rhodneios is in danger! There’s an attack!” 

It wasn’t the first time that Ionnis had had a premonition that later had come true, and so Ronon didn’t doubt him for a single moment and said urgently, “Come! Let’s hope we aren’t too late!” He draped Ionnis’ arm over his shoulder and helped him to walk. After a few staggering steps Ionnis gradually regained his strength and started first walking, then running. Together they hurried to the house, not paying attention to the strange looks people gave them on their way. 

Ionnis opened the door to his house with way too much force so that the door banged against the wall. He rushed to the bedroom and saw Rhodneios lying on the bed, very similar to how he had left him in the morning. For a glorious instant he thought that he was in time, that everything was alright, that he had seen things still to come. With a sigh of relief, he sank to his knees beside the bed. 

And spotted the blood. A constant trickle of red, spilling between Rhodneios’ fingers where he pressed them to the linen of his chiton. The blood dripped to the floor where Ionnis was shocked to see an already large puddle of red. He gulped. He knew how long a man could survive with this amount of blood loss. 

“You came,” Rhodneios whispered barely audible. He turned his head into Ionnis’ direction, revealing bruises on his cheek and temple. He gave him a tiny smile and closed his eyes again. With obvious effort he reached out with his right hand. Ionnis grabbed it and pressed it, biting back the tears that threatened to spill. 

In the meantime, Ronon had fetched a clean cloth and helped Rhodneios press it onto the wound. When Ionnis looked up at him, Ronon shook his head with a tiny movement. 

Rage was boiling up in Ionnis, not for Ronon who only told him a truth he already knew, but for whoever had done this. If nothing else, he needed clarity. Needed to know whom to kill for this vile attack. 

“Who is responsible?” he asked his lover, caressing his cheek like he had done only this morning. 

Rhodneios coughed. When he regained his breath he replied, “There were three men. They said Daedalus had paid them to teach me a lesson. He wants me to know he’s the best and no one is going to take his place.” 

“He has killed before to protect his fame,” Ronon said. 

“Yes.” Everyone knew the story of how Daedalus had killed his own nephew after the young man had invented some useful things and people had started to praise him. He had pushed him from the Acropolis in Athens and had been banned to Crete where he had built the labyrinth for King Minos. “We should have suspected that the reconciliation went much too easy with someone like Daedalus. We underestimated him.” 

“It’s my fault,” Rhodneios mumbled. 

“No, no, I should have been able to protect you.” Ionnis pulled in a stuttering breath. Desperation and anger were like a black cloud surrounding him and entering every part of his soul. “I love you,” he whispered with a broken voice. 

“Me too.” Rhodneios’ answer was only a breeze in the air. 

“The gods will provide for him,” Ronon said. 

Obviously it was meant as a consolation, but for Ionnis it sounded horribly final. “The gods,” he whispered. 

Then he paused. 

Could it be …? Was there still a chance left? Could he do it, even if it meant he had to betray the oath he had sworn on his mother’s deathbed? But she would understand, wouldn’t she? And there was nothing left to lose. 

He sprang to his feet. “Zeus!” he called. “Ruler of Olympus! Hear me! I’m calling because only you can help me!” He stretched out his arms and added, “Your son is calling you. I’ll give you, whatever you want, if you only let Rhodneios live.” 

“What are you doing?” Ronon looked horrified. “It’s blasphemy to…” 

Ionnis held up a hand to quieten him. And he repeated, “Zeus, as your son, I implore you to help me. Please.” And he added another, quieter, “please”. 

Suddenly, there was a loud clap of thunder, although there was not a cloud in the sky, and a man entered the house. He was clad like a common traveler, but the way of his entry let no doubt that this was no mortal stepping over the threshold. 

“How dare you?” He pointed his index finger at Ionnis. His voice roared in a way that shook through Ionnis’ bones but he resisted the urge to run from the house. 

Instead he sunk to his knees and implored, “Please hear me out. Thirty-two years ago, you participated in a hunt for the famous silver lions. You stayed at the house of one of the gamekeepers who was my father. You fell in love with my mother Aphelandra. Nine months after the hunting party had left our house, I was born. My mother told me that for three nights she tried to tell you that you have a son, but when there was no answer, she decided to hide my true ancestry.” In his mind he asked his mother to forgive him for making her adultery public. 

“Aphelandra?” the god asked and gave Ionnis a scrutinizing look. His eyes traveled searchingly from his toes to his hair and he finally added, “I remember her. She had the same dark hair, and you also have her eyes.” 

“If you believe me, please help me,” Ionnis implored him fervently. “Please, I will do whatever…” 

Zeus shushed him. “Get up and be quiet,” he told him. 

Ionnis followed the strange order and looked expectantly at the god. Astonishingly, he felt no fear. Even if the god decided against them, at least he had tried. A serene calm came over him and he raised his chin. 

Zeus sighed. “Yes, you have got what it takes to be a Hero. And your mother was a very wise woman to hide you so perfectly, so that none of the other gods or goddesses could harm you,” he said. 

He didn’t have to say out loud the name of Hera, his wife, because it was common knowledge that she wasn’t too friendly with her husband’s lovers and children born from those passionate nights. Not many of them survived long enough to reach adulthood. Ionnis had very early in his life understood his mother’s reasoning. 

He watched as the god Zeus, his father, walked over to the window and stared out at the landscape. Was he remembering the time he had spent with his mother? Were they good memories? Ionnis really hoped so. 

After long moments the god turned back and addressed Ionnis. “I know that you are my son and a demigod, but at this time I can’t have another demigod around me. After the Danaë incident I promised Hera no more extramarital children. So, here’s my offer: Your lover will live, under the condition that I make you a mere mortal and you never speak to anyone about your ancestry.” He fixed the three men one after the other with his stern regard. “The day one of you does, Rhodneios will die.” 

Ronon nodded, Rhodneios was too weak to do more than open and close his eyelids, and Ionnis said “Yes!” with all the relief he felt. He knew that this was no empty threat, the gods always followed through with their warnings. 

“Good.” Zeus nodded and walked over to the bed where Rhodneios was lying, breathing deeply and as white as the chalked wall next to him, he held his hand over Rhodneios’ body, there was a glow of light. Rhodneios gasped – and that was it. Rhodneious moved himself into a sitting position and the god took a step backwards. 

He forestalled any expression of thanks with a short gesture of his hand. “Bringing you back to life is one thing, keeping you alive another. As long as the old man is alive, you are not safe here. Daedalus knows where you live, and I’m sure he’ll try again to kill you. I’ll transport you to a far away island, and you are only to come back when he’s dead.” 

“But…” Rhodneios started to say. 

Ionnis quickly pressed a hand over his lips to silence him. He didn’t know what his friend wanted to request, ask, or object to, but he was sure that the most powerful god of the Mount Olympus didn’t like sentences that began with “but” when he had decided on an outcome. 

Addressing Zeus, he said solemnly, “We accept your wise decision, and we thank you for your divine providence.” 

Zeus called Zephyrus, the god of the west wind. There was a moment of tense anticipation, the papyri on the desk whirled around, some of them falling to the ground, and with a gust of wind a beautiful young man stood in the middle of the room. When he folded his wings, one of the cups on the table was overthrown and rolled from the table to the floor where it landed with a metallic plop. 

Ionnis was fascinated by the wings and envied the god his ability to fly. But quickly he turned his attention back to Zeus and Zephyrus. There was a hushed conversation going on between the two gods, with lots of headshaking and raised eyebrows but finally Zephyrus nodded. Ionnis hoped that this was a good sign. 

A wisp of wind tore on his clothing, and the next thing Ionnis noticed was a whirlwind of soft air that elevated him and Rhodneios from the ground and out of the house. He didn’t know how Zephyrus did it, but they mounted higher and higher. Ionnis fervently hoped that Zephyrus knew the sad ending Icarus had taken when he had come too near to the sun. Then he called himself a fool, because this was a wind god, for heavens sake, Icarus had been a mere mortal. 

Ionnis decided to make the most of the flight. He looked down, saw their house, their city and the coastline grew smaller and smaller, saw tiny islands appear and disappear and finally - after Boreas, the god of the north wind had given them a push to the south - Zephyrus sat them gently down on the beach of one of the bigger islands. 

“Here we are,” he said again in his human form. 

“Where is here?” Ionnis asked. 

“It’s called Kirionisi, the main island,” Zephyrus explained. “If you follow the beach to the right, you’ll reach a small harbor within a day. Good luck.” And he was gone. 

“A whole day?” Rhodneios complained. “I mean he can fly. Why didn’t he put us down closer to the city?” 

“Uhm… do you want to explain to everyone why you got there with the help of the god of the west wind?” Ionnis turned to Rhodneios and gave him a scrutinizing look. He looked fine. No blood, no torn fabric and the pallor of his face had perhaps more to do with the frightening height of the flight than the no longer visible stab wound. Zeus had kept his part of the bargain and had healed Rhodneios. 

But he wanted some more confirmation and started running his hands over Rhodneios’ body. “I was so scared but you’re in good health again,” he whispered in awe and full of gratitude. 

“Yes.” Rhodneios hesitated before he added, “Because you gave up your immortality for me.” 

“Sshh,” Ionnis put a hand on Rhodneios lips. “We aren’t allowed to speak about this.” Suddenly he was very happy that Zeus had made this request because he wasn’t in the least inclined to discuss with his friend why he had done what he had done. “But let me see if everything is fine with you again.” He pushed his hand under the linen fabric of Rhodneios’ chiton. 

Obviously, Rhodneios was as eager as he was to find out if everything was where it belonged because, with one energetic movement, he got rid of his only piece of clothing. He looked down his body and for the first time really seemed to realize what had happened. “I’m completely cured.” He looked at Ionnis with big eyes. “I was nearly dead, and now I’m fine again.” 

“You are,” Ionnis said, and his voice sounded coarse because of all the cold air he had gulped down. He caressed Rhodneios’ skin where the gaping wound had been and where now was warm, soft skin. Rhodneios was alive. Not dead. A wave of longing, and giddy happiness, and overwhelming gratitude ran through his body. Alive. 

He bent forward and put a light kiss to the spot, inhaled Rhodneios’ scent, and kissed him there once more. Rhodneios’ hips came forward when he continued licking and sucking the spot until his lover was moaning constantly. 

“Show me … that we are … still alive,” Rhodneios managed to mumble between two loud groans and Ionnis was only too happy to comply. He got rid of his cloth, draped his body over Rhodneios and showed him how fortunate they both were. 

When they were both lying sated on the sandy beach, the warm water playing around their feet and the sun setting over the Mediterranean Sea Ionnis spooned behind Rhodneios and whispered into his ear. “Welcome to your new life.”

Epilogue

Over the next several years Ionnis and Rhodneios won the favor of the island’s regent and helped him with wise military decisions and cleverly planned defense systems to make his island one of peace and prosperity. The people were so thankful that they could lead their lives without war, that when Ionnis and Rhodneios died after long and fulfilling lives, the residents started calling the island ‘Rhodneios’ Island’. Over the millennia the second word got lost, the name transformed a bit, and that’s why the Greek call the island ‘Rhodos’ today.

\----THE END---

©Antares, September 2019 

**Author's Note:**

> 1) Some scientists say that island's name might be derived from _erod_, Phoenician for snake; some think it comes from the Phoenician word _rodia_ for pomegranate and others think it was named after the nymph Rhode, wife of the sun god Helios. 
> 
> 2) I found lots of information about Ancient Greece on these sites: https://www.ancient.eu/ and https://ancient-greece.org/


End file.
